Tuesday, May 29, 2007
I'm in Istanbul.
I bought a cheap ticket to that destination sometime between 1:00 and 2:00am Saturday morning.
Actual timing is unknown.
I can't actually read the formal departure time on the boarding pass. It seems a salty, fluidy eye discharge has blurred the numbers.
Have escaped for a few days.
Was looked after by four guys over the weekend on my touchdown in Turkey, and a few camels.
Thank God for the four guys.
I am sitting on a kelim rug.
Bill Bryson was right you know: One truly unbearable thing in this city is the Turkish pop music...[if] you can imagine a man having a vasectomy without anaesthetic to a background accompaniment of frantic sitar-playing, you will have some idea of what it is like.
In the meantime, it's nice to know a coffee shop in Cape Town is missing me so much they named themselves after me.
(Not really. It's called Beans On Toast in actual fact, but copyright infringements are rife on Long Street. ) Thanks Jimmy for the picture.